


i can dream about you

by shellebelle



Series: Simplest Shipping Grid Ever [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, dave is a big dork, jade is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellebelle/pseuds/shellebelle
Summary: You mutter just under your breath, calling yourself every name in the book, and a few thataren'tin the book. You get the point. Past you was an idiot. Present you isn't any better.





	i can dream about you

**Author's Note:**

> I started this YEARS ago and was dissatisfied with it at the time, so I didn't post this. I re-read it recently and said "hey this isn't half bad", tweaked a few things, and decided to post it. And this completes the "Simplest Shipping Grid Ever" series unless people want more in this universe. Suggestions will be gladly considered.

==>Dave: Be grossed out.

John and Rose kind of make you sick. 

Okay, not _ really _ but fuck, they’re sappy. John fetches and carries for her, laughs at her jokes besottedly even if he doesn’t understand them completely, and Rose has a mask of “oh I deserve this, thank you servant” but you can tell (and you know John can too) that she’s fronting, you never miss the slight surprise, and the gratefulness with which she says “Thank you.” 

The way she looks at him. The way he looks at her. 

_Jesus fuck._  

In the meantime, you are as cool as a coolkid gets, right? You’re chill. You don’t let anything bust that up, no sir. Well. 

There _is_ an exception.   

Jade Harley is the only person who can get you to crack a full, unironic, genuine smile. Even John does not hold that distinction. (Though he does come close quite often.) 

There's just something about Jade that makes you drop your entire “coolkid” act and do stupid stuff that only a huge derp would do. A bigger derp than Egbert, even.  Right in the halls, right in front of everyone, you will give her a high-five as she passes. But not _just_ a high-five.  

A _ Vulcan _ high-five, spreading your ring and middle fingers in a “V”.  “Live long and fucking _ prosper _ , Harley.”

She'll giggle, matching up her fingers to yours. “Same to you, Strider.” (The two of you meet on the sofa for Star Trek marathons at least once a month. Sometimes you watch the original series, sometimes one of the other more recent ones. You laugh at the cheesy acting, cheesy special effects, but admit wholeheartedly that most of the Star Trek series are pretty damn awesome and that Gene Roddenberry would probably be God Tier on most planets with intelligent life.)

If you have more time to do it, the greetings get more obnoxious.  There's at least one fist-bump/hand shake combo that goes on for a full minute, as you keep your poker face on full-bore, and Jade giggles like an insane thing. You pass it off as ironic. Everyone believes you about that. (You’re good at making everyone believe you about that.) 

Half the school thinks you're dating. You're not. Well, not _ really. _ The other half just think you're playing her; after all, what would a cool guy like you, Dave _ Fucking _ Strider want with Jade _ Herp-Derp _ Harley?

You could answer them, if they ever dared ask you. 

But they don’t. Not very many people talk to you. Most people don’t get your constant monologue, or the references you make. 

At the few school dances you both go to (not necessarily together, but you _ always _ meet up), the geek-levels go off the charts. 

“Hey Harley, did it hurt when you fell down from heaven?” 

“Ooh, Mister Strider, ooh.” She swoons into the nearest person’s arms (usually John or Rose, which is okay with you).

She dances with anyone who wants to dance with her, but always saves a couple of songs to dance with you, and at least one slow dance, with Jade so close to you that you come _ this close _ to being broken apart by a chaperone. (There may be some not-quite ass-grabbing during the slow dances, and some almost-inappropriate bump-and-grind during the fast dances.) (It’s ironic) (Not really)

But you're not dating.

Not _ really. _

(Well, not _ yet _ .)

Rose and John roll their eyes at you, have no idea what you're waiting for.

You, however, are waiting for the perfect moment. You're not sure when that will be, but you've been planning it for the last year, because for you, any gesture not meant in irony takes _ planning and preparedness.   _ You want to make sure that when you ask her to be your girlfriend for real, that she knows you mean it, that she knows what she means to you. __

As it is, the almost-dates are getting rather hard to keep casual. The not-quite-by-chance meetings, the times they go out Dutch treat, and the not-altogether-infrequent almost-kisses are becoming too numerous to pass off as “not dating”.  Dating is a subject the both of you tread lightly around.

After the game, all of you had trouble trusting other people. After the game, you couldn't imagine ever being without the others. And you remember multiple Johns, multiple Roses, multiple Jades, and too many dead Daves to count.  You remember them and they live in your dreams far too often to be strictly comfortable.

You want to make _ this _ Jade happy and safe, and though she can definitely fend for herself, you still feel as if you want to protect her. She is perfect, utterly _ perfect _ , and you can't imagine anyone better for yourself than Jade.

You know you're not cool. And you know that she knows it, and is your friend anyway. Your friend and _ almost-more-than _ friend.

_ Ugh, that has to change soon, _ you think. You watch her from across the cafeteria, where you are standing in line. You like when she's talking, she's so animated, her face and hands and how she tucks her hair behind her ears and looks up, awww it looks like she’s flirting… 

 

_ Wait, what? _

 

Who the _ fuck _ is that with Jade?

~

You learn later that his name is Bryant, that he's on the football team, and that he's just moved here from Wyoming.

 

Seriously, _ WYOMING _ . You really want to ask Jade what the fuck she's doing flirting with him.

But you have no right to do that.

 

Because you've waited too long and whatever perfect moment you've had is gone.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

TG: john

TG: john are you there

EB: hey dave! what's up?

TG: How's jade

EB: she's fine, man!

EB: But why aren't you asking her yourself?

TG: can't man

TG: shes not home

EB: ...oh. yeah, she wouldn't be...

TG: …

TG: shes on a date isnt she

EB: oh man i'm sorry dave! She and that guy bryant went out

TG: shit

==turntechGodhead has signed off!

EB: oh crap

 

You are Dave Fucking Strider, and you are most definitely not doing an acrobatic pirouette off the fucking handle. You are cool, chill. And the next time you pass Jade in the hall, you do not answer her Vulcan high-five, mostly because you don't really see it, or  _ her _ , even.

All you are looking at is how motherfucking stupid you are. Your eyes are seeing only the destination, your mind is only seeing how stupid you are. How _ monumentally _ stupid.

If Bro were here, he'd kick your ass, and you'd deserve it. He'd have liked Jade. That thought makes you even sadder than you were before. “Shit,” you mutter.

It's just before Christmas. You already have her gift. You'd planned things. You were almost ready to ask her. _  Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, little man, _ you can hear Bro saying in your head.

You're glad he can’t see you now, though maybe Dirk would have understood.  You wouldn't have screwed up if he were here to talk to. You're fairly sure of that...okay, you might still have screwed up still but it wouldn't have been so _ bad. _

You all share a four bedroom house. Not very many people know that, because not very many people have been over. When people come over, they tend to ask questions. None of the four of you like questions very much.  Especially ones like _ hey, what's that weird colorful hammer out there _ or _ nice turntables, why are they just hovering there _ because those are never fun to try and come up with an answer that doesn’t sound like bullshit.

You all tend to keep to yourselves but most of the time, you're together for dinner.

Tonight, however, you're not. You just cannot deal with looking at Jade across the table when Rose and John are just _ so fucking happy _ together.

“Dave?” There's a  knock at the door. It's Jade. _ Dammit. _ “Hey, Dave, are you okay? Dinner's ready...”

“Yeah, I'm okay...just got some shit to do. I'll get something later.” _ After you're asleep. _

“Um, okay. If you're sure you're...okay...” You can almost hear her worrying her lip with those adorable front teeth of hers. “Seeya later...”

You listen to her footsteps grow faint as she goes down the stairs, and then you toe off your shoes and crawl into bed, pulling the covers over your head.

This was going to be bad, and there was no end of it in sight.

 

You know avoidance is uncool. You know this but you do not care because your heart is just not willing to risk more pain. So you adjust your schedule. You're the Knight of Time and that's a thing that's never changed, so you know how to adjust your schedule to completely avoid Jade Harley. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of her and Bryant walking together, talking.

You tell yourself that you need to move on. Train's pulled out of the station, ice cream man's gone down the road, never mind that you bought your ticket, that's expired, that you have money in your pocket, the ice cream's gone.

Shit, you're pathetic.

But you live with Harley, so you need to act as if nothing's wrong. You can't let your guard down now. You can't let her know she's hurt you. If she's happy, you don't want to spoil it for her by being a douchebag.

On Monday, the Vulcan high-fives are back, even if Bryant is walking beside her. He seems pretty friendly, tall, dark, and pretty good-looking, actually. They're nice together, if you look objectively and squash the jealous monster inside your chest, he's pleasantly tall, she's pleasantly small, he walks without owning her, without really even touching her. (You are very okay with this.) You eventually learn from Jade that he's in a lot of her classes, and he's new in the past couple of weeks.

What's worse is that you _ like _ him. He's _ nice. _ Hell, if you had to choose someone for Jade, he's the sort you'd choose for her.  He's much nicer than you, really. You can't blame her for being with him.

When you have Star Trek marathons now, you sit on opposite sides of the couch, with the popcorn bowl between you. She still laughs with you now, even though sometimes, she looks at you and there are questions behind her eyes that she doesn’t ask and you don't answer.

Sometimes, you will make sure you're at the mall or wherever at the same time she is, especially if she's not with Bryant. But you won't reach out to “ironically” hold her hand. It hurts too much to even touch her.

It begins to hurt all the time, and it's getting to you really quickly. The pokerface starts turning into a very, very slight frown.

“Fuckdammit, what made us all move somewhere it gets cold?” you grumble, as you start back home with Jade after school the day of the Holiday dance.

Jade giggles at you, but shivers too. She was raised on a tropical island, so of course she's cold. You want to hug her close. So badly that your arms ache.

But you don't. You jam your hands in your pockets.

“It's not that bad!” She grins over at you. “It's kind of neat! Besides, we won't have to stay here forever...we'll go somewhere else when we graduate!”

That word _ we _ pings around in your chest like a pinball and goes _ tilt _ -smash into your heart. _ Ow. _

“Do you really think we'll stay together after we graduate? I mean, who's to say John and Rose are going to want to go to the same college I can manage to get into? I mean, fuck, _ I'm _ the idiot of our little crew...”

Jade furrows her brow at you. It's adorable and you try not to notice. “Don't say that! You're smart! Besides, who says _ I _ even want to go to college?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Like I'm supposed to travel the world with you?” You didn't mean for it to come out as bitter and angry as it sounded, and you don't really know where the tone came from.

“...well...um...I just...” Her eyes are wide behind her glasses and she's blushing.

“Maybe I have stuff I want to do, ever thought of that?” A part of you wants to stop yourself, to tell yourself to pull back, to apologize, but the larger part of you is angry—more at yourself than at her, true—and you want, and don’t want, her to know how much you’re hurting. Why do you have to be so stupid, dammit? 

“God, okay, geez! Stop yelling at me, fuckass!” She is clutching her books to her chest, looking at you warily.

You look at the ground, your face a mask of indifference. And that's precisely what it is, a mask. Inside, you are dying.

“Are you going to the dance tonight?” Her voice is small and a little scared. You hate the sound of her fear. And that you did that to her.  _ Dammit dammit dammit! _

You shrug. “Does it even fucking _ matter? _ ” you sigh. 

She closes her mouth with an audible snap, then turns and walks away quickly, without looking back.

And you, you just stand there like the complete _ asshole _ you are _. Shit. Shit shit shit! _  You turn and walk back to school, despite the cold, so that you can berate yourself some more.  And so you do. You mutter just under your breath, calling yourself every name in the book, and a few that aren't in the book. You get the point. Past you was an idiot. Present you isn't any better.

You round the corner, heading towards the back of the school, passing the usual rounds of kids up to no good, or waiting to get up to no good, or guys making out--

 

\--wait--

 

\--is that _ Bryant?? _

 

Yes, it is. That's Bryant, and he's kissing a guy you recognize from your gym class. You don't think about it, you just go over to him and tap his shoulder hard till he turns around.

“I really hope I don't need to fuck you up, but aren't you and Jade a _ thing _ ?” _ Damn, he's tall. _ You cross your arms as you glare up at him, and the other boy he was kissing flushes bright red and looks nervous.

The dark-skinned boy blushes brightly and stammers, “What? No! I mean, she's nice and all but I'm like...um, gay? She knows that! We're just friends, and she's helping me adjust to a new school.” He frowns, and puts his hands on his hips. “Seriously, what the _ fuck _ , you aren't even going out with her!”

“Shit, _ oh shit. _ ” You are _ so _ uncool. You are burning up, that's how uncool you are.  “Oh man, sorry. Shit. Sorry, dude.”

“Dave, chill. It's all right, _ god _ .” He rolls his eyes at you as he takes his boyfriend's hand. “Look, would you just  _ ask her out _ already? Quit stalling, because if you don't, there's _ five other guys _ in the Future Nuclear Physicists of America that would kill to date her. I'm not even gonna _ mention _ the Chess Club. But I'm sure she'd rather have you.”

“Yeah. Okay. Really? Okay. Um. Yes. Got to go.” You turn and you want to bend time...no, _ space _ , because you need to get back to the house and you need to get back there _ now _ . But nope, you can't do that (that's Jade's job), so you take off running as fast as you can, running up the steps and into your house, running right to Jade's bedroom door, which is closed and you can hear her music playing.

You know that when it's _ Clair de Lune _ , that she's feeling jumbled up and sad. You stand there panting for a few moments, then you knock softly. “Jade?”

A sniffle. “Yeah?”

“Sorry...um, I was an asshole just then.”

“ _ No me diga. _ Tell me something I don't know.” Her voice is thick and there’s a bite of sarcasm to it. Shit, she's been crying. Shit, shit, _ shit! _

You lean your forehead against her door. You want to ask if you can come in. You want to hug her and tell her you're sorry again, kiss her and tell her you want her. And you know that you've already waited too damn long, but dammit, you  _ have _ to do something big for her to make up for all this bullshit. Something grand. __

_ You have to make a fool out of yourself. _

So what comes out of your mouth is “Are you going to the dance?” You hear her snort, and sniffle again.  You lay your hand against the door, flat. _ Oh god, oh god she's going to say no, she's going to tell me to go to hell, oh god... _  You swallow and murmur, just loud enough for her to hear: “Please say yes.”  There's still silence, and you need an answer. “Because I really want you to go. I'm going.  Are you going?” God, you’re babbling, you sound like an idiot. You do not care.

The silence stretches, and you wonder if you might have been too obvious or too pushy, or just too... _ stupid. _

Then you hear her sigh and there's a tiny, soft giggle. “Yeah, I'm going.” You hear her get off the bed and open her closet. You realize that she almost didn't go. Because of you. You feel like an asshole. No, you  _ are _ an asshole. You are the biggest asshole, it's you.

But your heart unclenches marginally, floods with desperate hope. Your heart seems to judder back to life, making your face flush. “Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you there. Right? Okay then. Yeah see you...there.”

“Okay,” she says softly, and you abscond into your room.

You have work to do, and you're really glad all your stuff is set up...

 ~

By the time things are ready, Jade has already gone to the dance with John and Rose. You're going to be late, but that's perfectly okay by you. You never go to these things on time, and it will just make what you are going to do all the more special.

You spied out the window on what Jade was wearing to this thing. You saw black, sparkles, like the Witch of Space that she is. And her hair up, partway, a long fall cascading down her back. Her glasses polished and shining.

Now to make yourself a complete fool for her in public.

You are _ so _ ready for this.

 

~

You see Jade across the room, happy and laughing with John and Rose. She looks beautiful. You're glad you're wearing a tux.

You've got flowers in one hand. You've got a ring in your pocket.  And you've got your own sick beats on a CD, which you are handing off to the DJ, and asking him to let you use the mic.

“Attention, would Miss Jade Harley come to the DJ table please? Miss Jade Harley, Best Girl in the World, please come to the DJ table,” you announce smoothly. Certainly more smoothly than you feel.

Jade looks over at the table with a stunned expression and sees you there. You can see her blushing, but she moves bashfully over towards you. You completely ignore your pokerface in favor of a smile.

“Hi,” you say softly, off-mic.

“Hi. You're crazy,” she says softly, beaming.

“Yep,” you agree, and tip the mic back to your mouth, going down on one knee and offering her the wrist corsage—roses, in the deepest red you could find. “Miss Jade Harley, if you would do me the honor of every dance tonight, and every date for the foreseeable future? I promise to be a perfect gentleman, unless you don't want me to be, and to be attentive, unless you want me to get out of your face.” You remove your shades, and give them to her. 

“And I won't wear these unless you want me to.” 

You'd planned on doing this all along, but you were not really expecting to do it in front of _pretty much the whole school._ You feel far more vulnerable than you were expecting to feel and you flinch a little before looking up at Jade. She is looking at you with your shades cradled carefully in her hand, her lips parted slightly, blinking her pretty green eyes.  “Will you be my girlfriend?”

 

You know it's completely corny, and if she says no you will have to move away and be a hermit somewhere, but you really don't care. It's do or die.

Jade hooks your shades into the top of her gown, and reaches out to gently touch your face. “What took you so long?” She wasn't entirely expecting that to be so loud over the mic and she startles a bit.

You smile again, and you know you look like a complete tool. “I'm an idiot.” That phrase comes over the speakers loud and clear. “And you haven't answered me.” Your voice is gentle and affectionate.

“Of course I will,” she says, beaming. You rise off your knees, put down the mic, and nod at the DJ, who slides your CD into the player. Out comes the sweet strains of Clair de Lune, mixed with “Time after Time” and “I Can Dream About You”.  You mixed those three things up, and you made it  _ work _ because you are a  _ Strider _ . You take Jade's hand as her mouth falls open, gently leading her onto the dance floor. You slide the corsage onto her wrist, then pull her close. “You know I love you, right?”

She looks up at you, her eyes shining. “Of course,” she says softly. “I love you too.” Her voice wavers a little.

Everyone is looking at the two of you. You hear a “YEAH, YOU GO GIRL!” that you think is probably Bryant, and she huffs soft laughter and leans her forehead against your shoulder.

This isn't like one of your typical slower dances, where you cling to each other and  you practically carry her. You are holding her gently, dancing slowly, elegantly, and you spin her around. It all feels like a dream to you till she comes back from her spin and bumps into your chest.

Time starts moving slowly around you with a slight turn of your mind, and Jade closes space against the two of you like a blanket. No one else can see what happens next, because you’ve stopped time briefly.

Her hair is soft against your fingers and you stop and tilt her face up to yours. “You are the best girl in the multiverse.” And then you kiss her, finally, at last, and her arms tighten around you. With time and space slow and thick around you, the moment stretches. Nothing has ever tasted as good as she does, the feel of her between your lips, in your mouth, the best feeling ever. Something in her shudders and you feel her lean a little more against you. Your arms tighten around her. She's strong, bones and muscle underneath her soft skin, but you never realized how small she was before. You put your hand to her face, and you can feel her cheekbones, how delicate they are.

You can feel her start to smile, her mouth curving beneath yours, and you pull away to look.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” she murmurs, a little breathlessly, and you kiss her again, lightly.  “I don't mind if you wear your shades. I mean, I kinda don't want _ everyone _ to see them,” she continues, blushing.

“You can take them off whenever you want. But only you.” You can afford to be vulnerable to her, your behavior these past weeks could probably be considered your lowest point. You kiss her again, she runs her tongue over your lower lip, and you sweep her around in your arms as you both release your holds on Time and Space and everything begins to flow around you naturally again.

John is cheering and clapping like a big dork and Rose is looking at him fondly, and then he grabs her hand and pulls her out to dance beside the two of you. This is, evidently, a signal to the rest of the school that it's okay to intrude on what seems to be the spotlight dance.  Jade just smiles and leans her head on your shoulder.

It's the best dance you've ever attended. You and Jade find a table in the corner and sneak kisses all night. You don't drive her straight home because you could just _ tell _ that John was going to make his moves on Rose and seriously, you don't want to be around  _ that _ at the moment.

Instead, you open the car door for her and after she's put her seat belt on, you tuck a blanket around her, because even with her coat on, it's still cold as fuck till the car warms up. She grins and holds the blanket up around her chin. “Thank you.”

You kiss her nose and close the door, then get into the driver's seat. “Let's go drive till we run out of gas, Harley.”

She _ beams _ at you. “I'm up for that, Strider. I'm _ so _ up for that.”

==>Drive

You drive along, using back roads and city streets, and Jade yells “WOO!” and waves her arms out of the windows at people on the street as you drive.  You park, and walk through the dark with her. She’s made of starlight and moonbeams, and you tell her this. She laughs at you and punches your shoulder, tells you that you’re ridiculous, but she’s blushing all the same. 

When you and Jade finally pull into the driveway come dawn, she's asleep and you wake her just enough so that she can put her arms around you when you carry her inside. She snuggles up against you, her glasses knocked askew by your chest.

You carry her inside, upstairs, your heart fit to burst from how fucking happy you are. The house is quiet and warm and Jade sighs happily. You bring her to her room and lay her in bed. She wriggles out of her coat and toes off her shoes. “C'mon,” she murmurs. “With me.”

You toe off your shoes and take off your coat, unbuttoning your shirt and slipping into bed beside her. She cuddles up again and you take off her glasses and yours, placing them on the bedside table. You kiss her softly. She tastes like the strawberry milkshake you shared a couple of hours ago.

“Think we're ever gonna use both bedrooms for sleeping ever again?”

“Does it really matter?” she sighs, yawning. “Long's we're together.”

“Yeah. 'Sides, Rose's door was hanging open and she definitely wasn't in her bed...”

Jade giggled. “C'mon, Dave. You need sleep.” She wound one arm around you and began to stroke your hair, soft and slow. You're more tired than you thought, because your eyes are starting to drift shut.

“I can dream about youuuu,” you sing softly, “'f I can't hold  you toniiight...” You nuzzle into the nape of her neck.

 She huffs a soft giggle. “You _are_ holding me, dipshit,” she says affectionately, but by the time she does, you are already asleep, your face buried in her dark hair.

 

THE END


End file.
